


A Promise Meant to Keep

by Rustler



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Friendship, POV Character of Color, POV Female Character, Team, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-19
Updated: 2011-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rustler/pseuds/Rustler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the third night that John has been missing, and Teyla can’t sleep. Written for Tielan in the Teyla Thing-a-Thon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Promise Meant to Keep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tielan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/gifts).



> Tielan, first my apologies for being late with this. I've always loved the simple promise implied by the exchange between Teyla and John at the end of Search and Rescue, so I hope you don't mind that I ran with it!
> 
> Thanks to gaffsie for running the fest this year and granting me an extension. And to my friends Trillingstar and Ozsaur for helping me through a tough time. :-)

_“I never gave up hope because I knew. I knew that you would come for me, John.”_

_“You would have done the same for me.”_

_“Yes.”_

***

It’s the third night that John has been missing, and Teyla can’t sleep. She knows she should try to force herself to get some rest. She won’t be of much use—to John, or anyone—if she’s too exhausted to function, but even her most practiced and reliable relaxation techniques have failed to calm her thoughts. 

She can’t stop running nightmarish scenarios in her mind, images drawn from all of the various misfortunes that have befallen her team over the years: Wraith, Asurans, Genii. The worst of it is that they know so little. John could be anywhere, held by anyone. One moment he was with them at the market in Croya, the next he was gone. Simply vanished. It’s maddening.

Finally, Teyla gives up the pretense that she is going to be able to sleep and sits, pushing the blankets aside.

“Trouble sleeping again?” Kanaan’s voice beside her is low and concerned. She’d been hoping to slip away without disturbing him, but obviously has not managed her restlessness well enough for that.

“I think that I might have a better chance of getting some rest if I check in with Rodney one more time first, to see if he’s made any progress.” 

She smiles in a way she hopes is reassuring, but it quavers. If Kanaan notices, he doesn’t mention it. She’s always appreciated that he never asks questions of her she cannot answer.

“Go on.” He yawns and turns onto his side. “I will look after Torren if he wakens.”

Teyla nods gratefully and leans down to press a kiss to Kanaan’s forehead before getting up to dress.

***

She is not surprised to see both Ronon and Major Lorne sitting around the table in Rodney’s lab when she arrives. There are coffee cups everywhere, and whiteboards that are usually covered in mysterious equations have been given over to collecting the scant information surrounding John’s disappearance they have managed to piece together.

Lorne gives her a quiet smile as she pulls up a seat beside him. Rodney looks up distractedly from a sheaf of papers marked with his wild handwriting.

“Oh, there you are Teyla,” He sounds as though he’s been expecting her. “We were, uh, just going over everything again.”

“Make sure no one’s overlooked any details,” Ronon adds. He doesn’t smile, but looks glad to see her.

Their eyes all look bruised. 

“So,” Rodney continues, looking back down at the papers in his hands, “when we split up at the market, Lorne, you went to look at art supplies?”

Lorne nods. “The colonel was with me for a little while, but I guess pigments and dyes aren’t really his thing. I was haggling for some yellow ochre when he wandered off.” Lorne swallows, eyes downcast. “I was caught up in what I was doing. I didn’t see where he went after that.”

“He spent some time with me looking at knives,” Ronon says next. “There were a couple he looked like he was considering, but he seemed to have something else on his mind and he didn’t stay long.”

“I was looking for jewelry for Jennifer,” Rodney sighs. “And as we all know, my attention tends to be rather, shall we say, focused. I didn’t really see Sheppard at all once we split up.” He sinks down onto a stool.

“John stopped to see me while I was with the textile merchant. He said there was something he wanted to get for Torren,” Teyla says, last. “I teased him about it. I said he just wanted an excuse to play with the toys, himself.” 

“You were probably right,” Lorne says, and for a moment they all smile.

Rodney pulls over the whiteboard where they’ve drawn a diagram of the entire market in Croya. Teyla looks at the red ‘x’ marking the textile stall where she last spoke with John, and follows along the dotted line showing his probable path to the toymaker’s stand, where Rodney has drawn a question mark. 

Teyla’s head aches. Over the last three days they’ve interviewed merchants and shoppers exhaustively. They’ve shown John’s picture to everyone they could find who was there that day. They’ve offered rewards for any information. And unless someone is lying to them, John never reached the toymaker. 

***

She used to wonder more often what would have happened if she—if she and John, both—had made other choices. If they had not both felt so bound by the weight of obligation and responsibility to their respective jobs, to the people who were counting on them.

Since reconnecting with Kanaan, since having Torren, those musings have largely taken on the quality of past dreams fondly remembered. A hand held a moment too long hauling him up from the gym mat when she beat him at bantos practice. A lingering look now and then. A shy, private smile.

It feels like an indulgence to think of these things now. She shakes her head and focuses on drawing up her list of contacts. She cannot allow herself to revert to sentiment when she should be preparing to fight. 

***

There is no more the four of them can do that night and they although they all seem to know it, it is hard to leave the lab. It feels like a small admission of defeat, of powerlessness. They plan to meet again in the morning and gain Mr. Woolsey’s approval to further widen their search. 

She returns to her quarters and looks in on Torren. He is sleeping soundly in his cradle, perfect, chubby little fingers curled over the edge of his blanket. 

“He hasn’t stirred,” Kanaan says quietly from the bed. Teyla turns toward him and smiles.

“Any news?” he asks as she comes over to the bed and sits on the edge.

“Nothing further,” she says, shaking her head and looking down at her hands.

After a moment, Kanaan places a hand on her shoulder. “John means much to you.” He doesn’t sound jealous, it’s not in his nature. 

“He does,” Teyla replies simply. It’s impossible to explain further. It would take five years.

“You will find him.” Kanaan gives her shoulder a squeeze.

He isn’t dead. Of that Teyla feels almost certain, and her intuition has always been strong. Someone, somewhere, is holding him captive. They will find him. _She_  will find him. As John has done for her, she will do for him. She could do no less.

“Yes,” Teyla says, looking up at Kanaan. She smiles, to reassure him. But at her side, her hand closes into a fist.

  
-END-


End file.
